Dead Like You
by I.O. Michaels
Summary: When George gets a promotion, there is a new reaper in town. Can he fill George's now empty shoes? Story is complete. Working on editing past chapters 2 years later .
1. You Know What Sucks?

_Note: None of the characters from Dead Like Me the series or movie belong to me, and the original characters in this story are not based on any person. I know this doesn't follow the DLM movie universe, but I began creating this piece before then. Please enjoy_

_Update: Two years later, I'm back after a long bout of writers block. After rereading my first fan fiction EVER I realized I made many, many horrid mistakes. So, as a mini project over the summer/finals week in college (that's right, I'm in college now) I'll be editing the current chapters, and possibly, if writers block permits, create a seventh chapter. Update of April 20, 2010 over. Toodles and enjoy._

**____Dead Like You____**

___Chapter One___**  
**

You know what sucks? Dying. Wanna know what's worse? Falling out of a window and dying. You want to know even worse you say? Falling out of a window and dying for a damn cat you don't even like.

You know what's weird? Standing next to some blond chick you don't know after falling out of a window and dying for a damn cat you don't even like and seeing your lifeless body on the ground.

Seeing my arm twisted behind my back at an odd angle, I could only respond with, "Oh that's so wrong."

"Ummm, not good….." the blonde said.

I stared at her with my mouth open, "Uhhh, am I dead? If so, fuck yeah 'not good!'"

"Possibly undead, I'm not really sure. But Rube is going to be pii-iissed." She said pissed in a sing song voice, which inadvertently made me pii-iissed.

"Who?" I asked in an angry tone.

"I'll…well, he'll explain later. Just follow me sweetie." She had a sad smile I couldn't help but notice Something wasn't right, and I had a feeling that something was me. As we walked down my street towards a very pretty red car, which I would know the name and year of if I paid any attention to my step dad, she kind of looked back, like something was missing and she was trying to find it.

She turned to me as we got to the car. She held out her hand and said "I'm Daisy, Daisy Adair."

"Davis Dulette," I responded, and reluctantly shook her hand. "You weren't our new neighbor, were you?"

* * *

We arrived at "Der Waffle Haus." Inside it smelled of maple syrup and bacon. It reminded me of Sunday mornings when my step dad would make waffles with butterscotch chips in them, a shame since it's the only thing about him that I liked. I guess I won't be getting those any time soon. Daisy was quiet on the way there. There was a stern looking old man in a booth over by a bar. Another guy looked like he was homeless and a crack head. It kind of looked like a drug deal.

"Sweetie, I would stay here for now." Daisy said as she walked towards them.

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited impatiently. While waiting there, a larger woman with a name tag stating that she was, "Kiffany," walked through me. Or at least I think she did.

I saw her walk towards me, then wondering who would name their child Kiffany, and then everything went blank, then suddenly I could see again and my insides felt like they were on a roller coaster. Once I felt better I shouted, "Rude much!?"

The crack head came up to the booth next to me and sat down. He looked around nervously and finally said in one long sentence without any pause whatsoever, "YouneedtobeverynicetoKiffany'."

"Are you high?" I asked him with a confused look.

"Are you God?" He asked in a British accent with a sad puppy look on his face. I totally would have fallen for him just being a crazy man who needed a bowl of soup, but the glossed over look of his eyes had the opposite affect

I raised an eyebrow at him and walked towards the table that Daisy and the other man sat at. "That man is high," I state pointing my thumb at Cracky.

"Aren't we all?" Asked the old guy.

"I think he might be dealing." I said to Daisy nodding my head to the Old Guy.

"Sit down, sweetie." Daisy said. And another sad type of smile from Daisy. She seemed like the only flower in this patch of weeds. Perhaps literally, considering the possibility the British man was smoking some very bad things.

It made me feel like I was in trouble, which reminded me of school; which reminded me that I was dead; which made me think that being dead wasn't so bad; which reminded me that I had apparently done something wrong.

"Soooooooo," I said, "What's shakin'?"

"Jesus, even from the up there Peanut's fuckin' my shit up." Old Guy said to himself.]

"The sailor at the other side of the booth is Rube." Daisy pointed out.

"Ahoy, Rube." Saying the name sounded funny, I was used to calling people "Mr." or "Mrs."

"Davis, am I right?" Rube looked tired, and sad, and a bunch of other colors from the macabre rainbow.

"Yes, sir." I said coyly. If anybody could scare me, I think it would be Rube. He had these dark eyes, a permanent scowl, lots of forehead wrinkles.

"Earlier tonight you died, and you filled somebody else's soul quota. Because you were their last soul, you will now be taking their place. You are a Grim Reaper." He said this kind of fast. I could tell it had been a tough blow on him.

"That girl earlier wasn't our new neighbor either, was she?" I turned and asked Daisy. I even surprised myself at how calm I was.

"No, that was Georgia."

Rube put his face in one hand. "Daisy, could you and Roxy take care of him? I have Mason to deal with and don't need all of this on my hands."

"Sure thing Rube," She said and patted his arm.

He got up and grabbed Cracky; whom I am assuming originally had the name Mason. I got up and moved to the other side of the booth. The seat should have been warm from Rube's body heat, but I didn't feel anything at all, must come with the "people being able to walk through you" territory.

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait for Roxy. Thank you, Kiffany." The woman who walked through me earlier had given Daisy fruit and cottage cheese. I personally couldn't stand the latter. And I wasn't sure I was fond of Kiffany. You shouldn't just go walking through people, even if you can't see them.

"No problem, baby," Suddenly she looked at me. Was I now suddenly visible? She hugged herself and rubbed her arms with the opposite hand. "Ooh, I got the chills tonight. Something is in the air…"

"Change," Daisy said.

"What sweetie?" Kiffany asked.

"Keep the change." Daisy said handing Kiffany a 10. Very generous tipper, that Daisy is.

"Thank you, have a good night," Kiffany said and walked away, every few steps glancing back at the what should be full booth, but wasn't due to my lack of corporality.

"Who's Roxy?" I asked when Kiffany left our table.

"She's a reaper, like us. And we're going to go on a little road trip when she gets off work."

"Where are we going?" I asked, watching her pop a piece of cantaloupe into her mouth.

"The morgue," she said, taking a grape this time.

* * *

We stood on the roof of a morgue. Roxy was in her police uniform and Daisy in her floral dress and high heels. It reminded me of June Cleaver if Mrs. Cleaver had blond hair and was known for sleeping with stars of the 30's. During the trip here, Daisy proved herself to be quite the storyteller.

"You're supposed to get closure from this…Are you closed yet?" Daisy asked, she had already complained three times of the cold.

"Apparently not, the mortician is poking his liver."

"I'm oddly okay with this." I said watching as the mortician, whose name was currently unknown, started to staple me back closed. "Okay, I have a little bit of a problem with that." I said watching the staples reflect the light and made my corpse sparkly. I would never look at glitter the same way.

"Well, you're closed now, closure complete, let's go." She turned and started towards the exit, Roxy followed.

"Uhh, where am I going to sleep?"

"Please tell me you have a reap with an apartment tonight." Roxy said to Daisy.

"No, no other reaps today. I guess he's sleeping your place." Daisy continued to walk towards the entrance.

"Nuh huh bitch, Rube placed him with you. You had George as a room mate, so this shouldn't be any different. He's sleeping at your place."

I refused to break the two ladies argument with the point that as a ghost-like being, I most likely didn't need to sleep at all.

"Oh Roxy, the only reason I let Georgia stay there is because she was quiet, I know nothing about him, how am I supposed to get my beauty rest if I think he's going through my things?"

Roxy placed her hand on her gun holster. "I have worked since eight this morning Daisy, I will shoot you."

"Okay, okay. He'll sleep at my place. You really shouldn't be that aggressive, it makes age lines."

* * *

As I laid on the red couch in Daisy's living room I thought to myself, "What do I do now?" I couldn't sleep. Or was I technically already sleeping since I was dead? Daisy forgot to turn on the TV so I was stuck staring at the dark ceiling. I think I was starting to go crazy.

All that was left to do was think about my last day on earth. I got up, ate breakfast, went to school and came home. I stayed in my room doing my homework like I usually do. Only tonight something different had happened. My step father, who wishes that I call him Stu, lacking in delicious meat and potatoes, knocked and opened my door while I was working on calculus. "Hey Davey," I hated it when he called me this, it made me want to smack him right on the bald spot on the back of his head. My grandmother, on my bio dad's side, told me to never trust a bald man, they always have something to hide.

By opening the door he let his beast, Prince Gary the calico, into my room. He quickly made his way onto my bed. "Get out," I said to the cat nudging him a little. He hissed and tried to claw me but I pulled back quickly. "David! Don't upset Gary, you know he's handling depression since moving into the house." The first problem was that David wasn't my name; the second problem was that he picked up the cat and stroked its head softly, now permanently giving the cat permission to make me his bitch.

"Sorry," I said rolling my eyes. The cat had it out for me since the day he set foot in the house; if he peed, tore anything up, or killed a rodent, it would always be in my room.

"Your mother wants you to come downstairs, we have new neighbors."

"I didn't know there were any houses for sale on our block." I said.

Stu shrugged and put Gary back on my bed, "She still wants you to come down and meet them."

I made my way downstairs behind Stu. Two blond women sat on our couch, both pretty young, one looking like she had hit her face into the wall of a crack den. My mom came in with glasses of water. "Ladies, this is my son Davis. Davis, this is Millie and Daisy Adair, they're sisters that just moved in."

"Hi," I said with a smile on my face, sticking out my hand for a good shake, no need to be sad yet, that would come later with the whole, death situation. Millie, aka Crack Den (No relation to Cracky), or as I now know her, George, shook my hand first. It felt a little tingly and her hand lingered a little. If she was trying to flirt, she was definitely barking up the wrong tree. I shook Daisy's hand and they stood.

"Well, we have to go and finish unpacking. It was nice to meet you." Daisy said quite eloquently. I felt a bit like a leper considering I had merely shaken their hand and then they ran away, with a very lame excuse I might add.

After they left I went back to my room, where I noticed my window was open and a faint meowing on the tree branches outside. I sighed heavily and went towards the window next to my bed. "I know I am going to regret this," I said thinking a few scratches would be the biggest worry of saving Prince Gary from his wooden prison.

I thought that if the cat fell out of the tree and died I would be to blame since I was the one always shooing it out of my room and yelling at him.

I let my knees rest on the windowsill and my hands went on the branch Gary was stuck on. "Come here little kitty, I'm not gonna hurt you… this time, come on, come on in," I said in a high pitched voice. Suddenly I felt my hand slip, my chin hit the branch and I came tumbling down the tree, hitting my head on it a few times. It was odd that I didn't feel anything, but that could have been because of the lack of soul.

I discovered later, through a newspaper article about my tragedy, that they didn't discover my body until an hour later. They know how I died, but not why. No one will ever understand my hatred for felines.

Finally morning came. Daisy and I went back to the waffle house donned, "Der Waffle Haus." Already there, was Rube and his tired eyes. We sat down and, eventually, Mason came from the bathroom and Roxy came in her blue uniform.

Yellow was a color I hated all of my life, and I would learn to dread the color in the afterlife. Rube handed out post-its to all but me, who couldn't physically move anything still.

Daisy explained that I wouldn't be able to physically touch things until I was buried, slash cremated, slash something else they do with dead bodies. My funeral wasn't scheduled until tomorrow. It was going to be a long 24 hours.

"You're going with Mason today, kiddo; we meet back here at night."

"Okay." I said.

Rube looked at me a little funny, "No questions? Concerns? No whining? No, 'Why does it have to be this way? Why is it so unfair?'"

I shook my head in a, "no," fashion.

"Damn, someone decided to throw me a bone with this one."

I simply shrugged. "Not like I have anything better to do with my life. Or death. Or does this count as limbo?"

"Right now I think you're considered a ghosty." Mason said with a grin.

"Actually I think ghosts have to technically be seen, heard, or move something. Currently I have none of these skills," I pointed out.

"I like this one, he's kind of funny." Roxy said sipping her coffee.

"Awww, can we keep 'im Rube? Can we?" Daisy said putting her hands under her chin and fluttering her eyelashes.

"We'll have to see. But for now, just tag along with Mason. Just don't shit on the carpet kid."

"Alright, I guess I'll explain this before we leave." Mason turned the post-it around so I could see. He pointed to a name. "This person will die," he said, moving his finger he was pointing at an address. "This is where they will die." Finally moving his finger to the bottom, "This is the time they will die, and we need to take their soul before then, got it?"

I nodded; I figured there would be more instruction on how to take the soul "on the job," so to speak.

**_End of Chapter 1_**


	2. Your Fly is Open

_For disclaimer, see chapter 1. I figured this would be a good section to talk about myself. I am 17 and a junior in high school. I saw Dead Like Me when it aired on the Sci-Fi channel a couple years ago and fell in love. I bought both box sets and watch them constantly along with Heroes. After completing this fanfiction, I plan on starting a Heroes fanfic, so keep your eyes open My hobbies include reading, GaiaOnline(dot)com (you can find me under the screen name "Color NEUTRAL"), and writing fanfiction like the one below. Enjoy._

_Update: Shall I continue talking about myself? I'm now 19, and a freshman in college about to finish my first year. I'm still an addict to GaiaOnline. I have yet to pick a major, but am leaning towards either writing, or possibly Film. Oh gosh I would love to write a second DLM movie, but alas, I believe that it would not happen. Anywho, toodles, and enjoy._

**Dead Like you**

_Chapter 2_

As Mason and I walked on the cement walkway through the park, he looked at the post-it in his hand. "What do you suppose 'pdst. 4' means?"

"Pedestal number 4," I pointed my finger at the fourth stone pedestal in a line, on top was one of those statue actors, the ones that cover themselves in gold paint and stand like statues. This one was holding a tin cup while a pigeon sat atop his top hat.

Mason walked over with the post-it and held it up so the statue man could see his name, "This you?" Mason asked, adjusting a pair of sunglasses he found on the ground earlier. The statue man's hand twitched a bit and the change inside the tin cup jingled. The pigeon was either trained to stay on top of his head, or stuffed, because it didn't move.

"Got any change on you?" Mason turned and asked me. I gave him a look that said very clearly in English: _You are an idiot._ Apparently he had forgotten I still couldn't touch anything.

Mason sighed and reached into his ratty coat pocket pulling out a couple quarters and a button. He dumped them into the cup. "This you?" he asked again. The statue man did a small robot dance move and ended with a nod. Talent, thy name is golden robot statue man.

"Well then," Mason said and patted the man, his hand left a small, shimmery glow on the statue mans arm, "The park manager said you're doing a great job, better than all these other amateurs. Keep up the good work."

"Watch the paint buddy, now scram. You're keeping away the customers." Apparently golden robot statue man could speak, though it wasn't very friendly words he uttered. The pigeon knew better than to stick around for it's master's death and flew the coop, I had wrongly decided it was fake seconds earlier. Mason walked across the walkway and took a seat on the bench, I followed.

"So what are we looking for?" I asked.

"An external influence."

"A what?"

"It's our devision, accidents, murders, and suicides."

"I'd be surprised if it's 1 or 3 with his attitude."

"Not all people are nice, sometimes it takes skill to get their soul before they die."

I looked around the park and noticed the railing that led to a drop off and a shallow stone pool for kids behind Statue Man, whom from the post was known as Martin F. Dobbs. "I'm guessing over the railing?"

"It's probable, we'll have to wait and see."

We waited for a couple minutes, "How long 'till he dies?"

Mason shrugged. "I don't have a watch."

A popcorn vender stopped near statue man and shouted out, "Popcorn!" over and over again.

"I miss popcorn, this non touch stuff sucks."

"Yeah, when I was all ghosty I really wanted some blow."

I decided to no longer talk to Mason at that moment. It was starting to get kind of creepy. Speaking of, three kids, about the age of 12, walked to the popcorn vender. They were planning a prank with very deadly circumstances. I liked preteens as much as I liked cats.

As Gremlin A distracted Vender A, Gremlins B and C light Firecracker X putting it into the hot melted butter bin and ran. Firecracker X exploded and hot butter flew onto Statue Man's face. It was like a math equation mixed with science and CSI.

"Ow." I said staring at statue man clawing at his now melted mug. Then he fell backward, not being able to to stay on the pedestal while his face melted with the salty, salty butter. I saw a small grey something go underneath him and he flipped over the edge of the railing, head down to a stone kiddy pool and crack went his skull.

"Hahahaha, did you see that. That was like Looney Toons, that was." Mason laughed almost maniacally. I hoped that my next mentor in the reaping business wasn't him.

"So what was that grey thing?"

"That would be a graveling."

"Does he like green eggs and ham?" I said, making a Dr. Seuss joke about our rhyme.

"No, they don't." Mason said. Apparently he didn't get it or anything else for that matter.

"So what are they?" I asked.

"Trouble. On a side note, never bludgeon anyone to death. They tend to hold grudges."

"Okay." I said, not wanting to take the trip farther into the rabbit hole that was Mason's mind.

I didn't know part of our duty was to escort the souls in limbo, similar to me, until they move on to wherever they go. And I also didn't know that when they accepted death we got to see what their comfort took form of.

In the case of Statue Man, he jumped into a mysteriously glowing pile of money and was then gone. It was very odd and made me wonder, what would my comfort have looked like? Probably a world without cats, trees, and preteens.

The rest of the day was pretty boring; Mason and I went back to Der Waffle Haus and I watched him sip free water. "You know that makes the waitresses pissed off, right? When you just drink free water all day."

"Aww no, they love me in here," Mason said. He looked around a little, almost like someone was watching, "Plus, Kiffany is psychotic, she wouldn't let me if she didn't like it, foreseeing that I would just be drinking water and all."

"Okay then," I said, making a mental note not to dislike Kiffany when she could see me. You never piss off a psychics, or psychotics for that matter.

Mason almost looked sane while he slept on the material of the booth a couple hours later. Rube and the rest of the pussycats showed up, they all talked about how their reaps went.

"So, do you think you understand how to do it now?" Rube asked taking a bite of his banana bonanza. I never liked having breakfast for dinner.

"Yeah, pretty much touch the person somehow, wait around till they die, then babysit the soul."

"You catch on fast, I'm sure you'll make a great reaper." Daisy said and nudged me a little.

I shrugged, "I got a 4.0 last term in school. Speaking of, what about school?" I asked.

"You don't need it. You can just steal the money off the bodies," Mason said sleepily, "But not the credit cards, just cash."

"Mason and Daisy use their less than legal talents to gain currency; however, smart reapers like Roxy here take on jobs outside of the soul business."

"I am not working at Wal-Mart. That's the only place where they'll hire teenagers here."

"What about that one place that George worked? Happy Hour?" Mason said.

"Happy TIME you idiot," Roxy said, she turned to me, "It's an employment agency, you might be able to get a job in the file room if you talk to George's boss. Just tell her that you were Millie's cousin and would like a job."

"You will be going to school." Rube said out of nowhere.

"I will?"

"Yes, I prefer my reapers have a little education, even if they spent most of it getting stoned." He said that last part while looking Mason. "And Daisy, he'll be staying with you since you have the room. I've already picked out a school and once we get your drivers license we can go there and enroll you."

"I can't drive; I don't even have a permit." I explained.

"Then don't, but you still need a license."

"Why?" I asked.

"You can't go by the same name you lived with," Roxy said, "You gotta be someone new, we have to switch it up a lot so no one catches on."

"Oh." I said. The single sound was the perfect word to fill the gap. I felt completely stupid for not figuring that out and it finally hit me that I was dead. I didn't have to deal with my parents, or what few friends I had in my life. I could start fresh, but it also meant any ties I had to my old life were left behind, and all of this dawned on me with the fifteenth letter of the alphabet.

"Tomorrow is my funeral. Do you know what time it will be?"

"Early, we can go to the wake, but not the burial. We wouldn't want you just suddenly appearing out of nowhere." Rube said.

"Well, I gotsta piss." Mason got up and left the table. I cringed at his use of the word, "Gotsta."

As soon as the men's bathroom door closed I turned to Rube and said, "Please don't let him come, I really don't need my parents thinking I was doing drugs."

"Good idea," Rube said. "I'll watch Mason, Roxy, you take Davis to his wake."

"Alright, I guess I can come into work late, but you owe me kid." She gave a little smile and I don't know why. Roxy didn't seem like the type that would open up. And knowing how annoying I could be I was surprised at that curve of lips saying, "You're pretty okay, kid." She probably just picked up on our common dislike of Mason.

I ran my hand through the empty coffee cup Roxy had sipped away and sighed. "I can't wait until I can actually do something other than watch you guys."

"Yeah, you do need to start pulling some of the weight around here." Mason said as he returned to the table.

I glared at him a little and then noticed something amiss, "Your fly's open," I said turning back asking to hear more about the car salesman Daisy reaped two weeks ago.

* * *

I sat on the edge of the buffet table as my uncle Ronny took half the plate of cocktail weenies. Most of the people at my wake I didn't even recognize. I only saw a couple of kids my age, two of which were Goths at my school that I didn't even know. They were probably going to dig up my body later and try to turn me into a zombie.

Roxy wore a woman's suit, and she looked very good in it. It was very rare that I would see her out of her blues.

"I'm very sorry for your loss Mrs. Dulette." Roxy said shaking my mother's hand.

"Actually it's Freeman, I got remarried last year. How did you know Davis?" Mom asked twisting a white handkerchief in her hands keeping herself from crying.

Roxy waited a moment not coming up with anything. "School teacher," I said from across the room knowing no one else would hear me.

"I was his art teacher." Roxy said.

"I don't take art." I said to her.

"I didn't know Davis took art. He seemed more of the studious type."

"Art history, the study of painters," Roxy said saving herself.

I left Roxy and Mom to talk about how good a student I was and all that jazz. I saw my step dad in the corner, Prince Gary in his arms being petted. My biological father, the lawyer, stepped forward. "You must be Stuart," He said holding out his hand. He then took it back after noticing the cat, which he was allergic to. He probably had even more reason to hate cats now that one killed his only son.

I suddenly liked my bio dad more, more than when he took me one weekend a month and I got to hang out in his huge apartment without Prince Gary and Stu.

"Yes, call me Stu," My step dad said smiling. He then took the smile away remembering that it was impolite to smile at your dead step son's biological father during the wake.

"I'd rather not," Bio dad said.

I now loved him like I had known him all of my life.

There was an awkward pause between them and I chose that moment to walk away to Roxy, who was taking advantage of the cheese and cracker platter, sans the cheese. "I can't do dairy, so I just stick with the crackers." She said when I stopped next to her.

"I think we should leave before the punching starts."

"Punching?"

"Cool Biological father plus cat loving, hippy stepfather, whose cat killed me does not equal good."

"I got it." Roxy said, and we figuratively, rather than Mason's literal take on things of such matter, blew the joint.

There is some Greek story that I can't remember the name of where there is some guy trying to rescue his wife. He is told that he can leave, but he can't look back to his wife or else something bad would happen, and of course, he looked back.

As we left the house of my mother and step father I remembered this story.

In case you're wondering, I didn't look back.

* * *

That night as Rube cooked his gourmet pasta dinner, he heard a knock at his door. When he opened it he noticed the large gold/brown envelope that held the name of the deceased to be.

Only this time it was different.

There was a post it on top that simply said, "Hey."

Underneath the writing was the Happy Time logo.

The only words Rube could mutter were, "Mother fucking Peanut."

_End of Chapter 2_


	3. NJ Baker

_For disclaimer see chapter 1. Thanks to Tony for giving me information on Dungeons & Dragons and inspiring unusual character classes for my spin off. Enjoy chapter 3._

_Update: Blarg. I had forgotten I was supposed to be editing this... Please don't throw stones? I can throw them back, just as a warning._

**Dead Like You**

_Chapter 3_

Ah, the D.M.V. It's the one thing that can unite the human race, seeing how everybody hates it no matter your race, religion, gender or sexual orientation. Currently I was there to gain my new identity while others just wanted to drive without paying a ticket.

Thankfully we went in midweek so it wasn't terribly busy, but it was busy enough. About an hour into our wait for the number 42 to be called by the soothing sounds of a male machine voice, Rube said, "I'll be right back; I have to make a sissy."

"That's valuable information that I really needed to know. It could save my life some day."

"Don't be a smart ass. When they call your number just go on up there. He'll know what you're there for. Just don't get him started on eap ray stories."

Apparently reapers know who other reapers are, and also have the useful skill of speaking fluent Pig Latin.

"Now serving number 42," said the Steven Hawking voice as Rube entered the men's lavatory.

I stood and went to the desk where a rather portly man with curly hair stood.

"Hey, I'm new," I said nervously.

"I know," He said. I wasn't getting a friendly vibe.

"So how long have you been, you know, eaping ray?"

He looked around a bit and pulled out a picture. "Old enough to eap ray her. N.J. Baker. August fifth." He showed me a picture of him in a suit with Marilyn Monroe.

"Wow, Norma Jeane."

"You a fan?"

"I did a history report on her; she got me an A plus, so she's pretty okay to me."

"Good to know some of our kind know fame when they see it," He smiled and typed some things in the computer. Rube came back from the bathroom at that moment and D.M.V. Reaper turned the smile off. "Eye color?"

"Blue gray," I said smiling.

"Just Gray." Rube said after looking at my eyes.

"Alright, step in front of the screen."

I stepped to the side in front of the blue screen and gave a small smile and the flash of the camera went off.

"Alright Nicholai Jacob Baker. Have fun with your new life." It didn't take a genius to find out what he did. He gave me Her initials. Hopefully I didn't end up with the same fate as N.J. Baker. I already died once.

He handed me my new I.D. and on the eye color I noticed it said blue gray. I also noticed the picture wasn't mine. "Who's this?"

"That would be you, or at least what other people see you as. Can't go around looking like Davis, Nicholai."

"I guess that makes sense." I shrugged and put my new license in my pocket.

* * *

Rube and I sat in the waiting room outside the principal's office at Warren G. Harding High School. Apparently they didn't know that Harding was one of our worst presidents. But he did teach us a lesson; never leave the country in the hands of your drinking buddies.

As I was getting the feeling that my day would be full of waiting rooms the secretary said that Mr. Wood would see me.

We walked into his very beige room with very blue carpet and blue chairs and took a seat. I set my brand new black backpack full of notebooks on the floor. Mason shoplifted them from the local Walmart.

"Well, a little late in the trimester to be starting a new school, isn't it?" Mr. Wood asked with an "I am tough as nails" look and with a not so "I am tough as nails" bald spot.

"Sudden job transfer," Rube lied. Tisk, tisk. Clearly he would be going to H-E-Double hockey sticks.

"Oh really, what do you do?"

"Delivers post-it notes," I said under my breath.

Rube cut me off. "I'm manager in a post-it note factory."

"Really? I didn't know we had one around here, maybe you can supply the school for the rest of the year," He said the last part with a laugh. I was getting a creepy Dr. Phil slash Bill O'Riley vibe.

Rube laughed a little then got a serious face. "Actually that would be against company policy. Please don't ask again." I am sure the principal now thought Rube was an axe murderer or super spy, considering I was contemplating the same thing with the sudden change of expression.

"Well, here at Harding we expect students to not only excel academically, but socially as well, so we've made it mandatory that you join a club, otherwise enrollment is revoked. There is a limit to only 20 people per club and so far we only have two open. Women's Swimming or Orcs and Oubliettes. Considering that you're male, you will have to join the O and O club."

"I'm sorry, but what exactly is Orcs and Oubliettes?" I asked raising one very concerned eyebrow.

"Well, orcs are fantasy creatures similar to a goblin only bigger and an oubliette is…"

"A dungeon with only an opening in the ceiling for entry or exit." Rube and I said in unison interrupting Mr. Wood. We looked at each other for a second and then turned back to the principal. One thing Rube and I had in common was our love of odd dictionary words.

"I meant what is the club about, not the definition."

"Oh, well it's a role playing game. You'll have to ask the club president about the exact game rules. They meet after school most of the week. Room 303."

"Lovely," Rube said. "Well Kiddo, looks like we've found your new school." He looked at me and gave a fake smile. I fake-ly grinned back. Joy to the world, I would be in a club for nerds.

Rube and I stood, each shaking the principal's hand and exchanging pleasantries. When we left Rube sighed, "What a jackass. Anyway, check your bag, I got you a present."

I looked in and found a red three ring binder. I looked at him with one of those "What the fuck is this?" looks.

"Open it."

I did and inside I found one yellow post-it. H. Weaver. 3:22 PM, The address of the school was below, with the word, "Rm 303." Oh yay, first day of school and I already had to kill a kid in my club. It was a very odd coincidence that the club I had to join was also the one where my very first reap would take place. Not a very good present.

"Happy reaping," Rube said and walked out of the room as the secretary handed me my new schedule.

* * *

Classes were, well, classes. I take that back. They were classes I took last year. Apparently they had underestimated my abilities as a student. My past academic records were somehow "misplaced." At the beginning of Chemistry the class hated me because the teacher took advantage of my newness to give out a lab safety pop quiz. I passed. Mostly everyone else failed. Apparently I was the only one who knew not to drink the mysterious bubbling green chemicals.

After instantly making everyone feel bad in Chemistry, I had the opportunity to do the same for Spanish by having a ten minute conversation with the teacher in her home language.

I reasoned to myself that I should just play dumb the rest of the day, or at least moderately smart. That plan didn't work out so well.

In Advanced Algebra the teacher kept trying to help me with problems I knew how to do perfectly.

"Mr. Crewe, I can help him," A very geeky looking boy next to me with loud red hair said.

"Thank you Allen, that would be very helpful," Mr. Crewe said and walked away to help a girl with whatever her problem was with factoring trinomials.

"What are you having troubles on?" Allen asked leaning over and looking at my paper that was filled with numbers and lines.

"Nothing," I said and continued working on problem 21.

"Be careful with finding the common factor, that's usually where most of the class gets lost." He said paying more attention to my paper then his own.

"Thanks," I said smiling, "But I really don't need any help."

Allen looked offended. He really didn't have to right to be so. At least I wasn't taking his soul and waiting for him to die.

"Well, we'll just see when we take the chapter test tomorrow, and then you'll be begging for my help."

He was pissing me off and I was about to go Mila Jovavich on his ass.

"Actually you can help me with something, where is room 303?" I asked.

He looked at me judgingly, "What do you need to know that for?"

"Apparently it's the only club open, so I have to join the Orcs and Oubliettes club. Lame right?"

"Actually O and O is a very exciting game, and it gives you an intellectual work out."

"I'm guessing you're a member?" I said my face dropping. Great, I insulted him already.

"Yes, vice president," He looked proud at this. I'm sure that vice president of Orcs and Oubliettes on his resume would get him a job as Secretary of Defense some day.

As the bell rang, Allen and I packed up our bags and I followed him to room 303. He opened the door and entered in front of me. What a gentleman. "Come on noob," He said back at me. I really didn't need this on my first day of reaping.

As I walked in I saw a boy dressed in all black, hair about medium length. Across from him was another kid, a little heavy and a lot of acne, but a little of that Proactiv and he would be pretty good looking.

Allen took a seat next to Proactiv. I know it's not a nice name to call him, but I didn't know his actual name.

Since the three were staring at me and no one was saying anything I just let out a, "Hi."

Goth stood and smiled a little. His teeth were a little crooked and he just didn't look right in black. He looked more of a maroon. "I'm Chris, the president of the O and O club," he held out his hand.

"Nick," I said using the shortened version of my new name.

"I'm Kaj. It's spelled with a J but pronounced like an I," Proactiv, or Kaj said.

"So Nick, have you ever played Orcs and Oubliettes?" Chris asked me.

"Um, no, I haven't." Looking at the table and seeing a grid on top I made an educated guess, "Is it kind of like chess?"

"Yes and no," Kaj said, "It's like a story you're in. Our Oubliette Orator still isn't here though."

"Oubliette Orator?" I asked. This was a lot of O's to deal with in one day.

"He's like the author of the story, he sets up situations for us to go into." Chris explained.

"So, pretty much we're just talking?"

Allen laughed. It was kind of girly and bitchy.

"No, we have figurines to represent our characters and enemies. You level up as the story progresses," Allen said like I was stupid.

"I don't have any figurines. I'm kind of broke." It was hard getting money when you're dead.

"That's okay, take a seat." Chris said.

I sat down in the remaining chair next to him; he crouched down and went into his backpack pulling out a box with the name of the game written in Old English lettering on it.

"Here you go. When getting a figurine you get a random box. You can buy more to get a better figurine, but really it's just the luck of the draw. I bought a couple yesterday and haven't opened them yet." He smiled and handed me the box, "Welcome to the nerd club."

I gave him a half smile and blushed a little. This was technically the second present I had gotten today, even if one was a post-it note in a binder. I didn't even get presents on Christmas. Stu was a Jehovah's Witness, and Mom didn't want to offend him.

I didn't want to open the box yet. As I was waiting with the box in front of me the rest of the group pulled out figurines. Chris pulled out a human looking figure with dark clothing and a mask. Beneath was scrawled "Elven Theif."

Allen pulled out what looked like a toddler wearing a pointed hat and robes. "Mini Mushroom Mage," made me want to laugh. It suited Allen for some reason. The ability to summon mushrooms probably wouldn't look good on his Secretary of Defense application though.

Then Kaj pulled out the most hideous thing ever. It looked like a badly drawn Mrs. Claus with green skin.

"Kaj, what is that?" Allen asked pointing at the green woman.

Kaj beamed. "That would be an Ogre Princess class. I got it this weekend; it's worth over 40 dollars." He grinned.

"That class is so weak, Kaj. You should have gotten your money back," Allen said putting his face in his hands.

Chris laughed a little and turned to me, "What did you get? Go on and open it."

I slowly opened that packaging hoping that I didn't get something as hideous as an Ogre Princess or ridiculous as a Mini Mushroom Mage.

The figurine was similar to Chris's only it wasn't. His black clothes were accompanied by a black hood and black cloth covering his eyes. In his hands was a scythe. This was not funny, I was pissed at whomever was playing these games with me.

"It's a Reaper…" Allen said with wide eyes. "Chris you have to take it back."

"No, Nick opened it. it's only fair that he keeps it." He smiled at me. "You're a Reaper, congratulations."

"What's so good about a Reaper?" I asked.

Kaj spoke up. "Statistically they are the best class and they have amazing abilities. If the Oubliette Orator kills off a character the Reaper gives a saving roll and has a chance of bringing the deceased back as a zombie. The Reaper then gains one thirteenth of the deceased stats, rounded up. And if the reaper dies, it has a fifty percent chance of coming back."

With the talk of reapers I remembered the post it. None of the people at the group had a name that began with H…

The clock above the door said 3:20.

I turned back to the group. "Um, who's the Orator?"

As I asked this question the door opened and a very large male entered.

"Hey Bitches!" He said grinning. He had not only a backpack with him but another case as well. I assumed it was full of his figurines and dice. His grin fell as he looked at the table. He let go of his bags and pointed at the table, "What the fuck are those?"

"That is our Orator, Henry," Chris said. "Henry, this is our latest member, Nick. He is a Reaper class."

I stood up and held out my hand. He reluctantly took it. It was a big mistake on his part. My hand left a shiny glow on his and I knew my job had been done. Apparently Henry thought I left my hand on his a little too long. He rolled his eyes and said under his breath, "Fag." I didn't think I would miss Henry. "What are those?" He asked again pointing at the two figurines.

"I got a new class this weekend. It's an Ogre Princess!" Kaj said excitedly. It made me smile a little.

"It's gay, don't use it." Henry said. My smile went away.

"But it's rare…" Kaj said disappointed.

"I don't care, it's a gay ass abomination." He said and picked up Kaj's Ogre Princess.

Chris leaned in next to me and whispered "He's known as 'eater of characters.' If he doesn't like your figurine, he eats it."

"Isn't that poisonous?" I whispered back.

"Non toxic plastic." Chris said and shrugged.

At 3:22 P.M. Henry Weaver bit the Ogre Princess in half. Her crown got stuck in his throat and he choked. Apparently she didn't like being called a "gay ass abomination." Henry fell backward and hit his head on the clean school tile and died.

We stood around as paramedics tried to lift his massive body out of the room, and his massive spirit stood next to me. I decided to leave and told the police I was too "traumatized" to give a report.

"So am I dead?"

"Yup."

"Are you dead?"

"Not completely."

"Well that's gay."

Some people just never learn.


	4. Road Trip

_For disclaimer see chapter 1. First of all, I'm sorry about the lateness of chapter 4. I've had a lot of drama in my life, especially in school. It also took a few days to set up out brand new computer. No more windows millennium edition for us. Though I can't say Vista is much better. That's my excuse for not getting chapter 4 up very quickly. Sorry again for you dedicated readers .Please don't kill me. Enjoy._

Dead Like You

Chapter 4: Road Trip

I leaned against the slot machine that whirled with pretty lights while sipping on a glass of 30 percent soda and 70 percent ice.

Mason sat in the bar stool in front of the machine, lured in like a fly to a bug zapper. Just as if he was with a gold digging girlfriend, Mason kept putting coins into it, but it just wouldn't put out.

One of the Casino employees walked past and stopped when she saw me. "Excuse me sir, but do you have an I.D.?"

I pointed to the glass, "It's just soda."

"Aren't you a little young to be gambling?"

"I'm not gambling, he is," I said pointing to Mason. I didn't see the point of wasting money on nothing but flashing lights, so I didn't support gambling.

She gave a frown and walked off angry. She should have known better than to mess with a teen that just doesn't care.

It had been about a month since I had begun reaping. I had learned many things, including that Mason had both a good side, and a drunk side.

Daisy came back with a cocktail that looked colorful and fruity. "How long do we have until the," she whistled twice to replace the word reap. I turned to Mason who was still staring at the whirling wheels hoping for triple sevens.

I rolled my eyes and reached into his coat pocket taking out the post it. "It says 11:21 a.m." Poor F. Reynolds would die in Vegas.

"It's about 11 now, we should go." She said and turned. I followed a couple steps and noticed Mason was still spinning the wheel. I went back and grabbed him by the arm and drug him to Daisy's car.

"But I was about to win!"

"And someone's about to die. Now get in the back seat." I said flipping the lever on the passenger side so Mason could crawl into the back seat of the rental car.

"Aren't I the adult here?"

"You wish," I said and pushed him in. It was pretty easy considering he was currently on his drunk side.

0000000

Our little road trip was announced two days ago. Rube handed Daisy, Mason, and I 500 dollars and told us that we were going on a trip. Actually, he handed the 500 dollars to me. It was supposed to be Mason's reap and there was a mess up upstairs or something, but Rube didn't want Mason alone in Vegas and/or with 500 dollars.

Daisy was driving, Mason was reaping, and I was chaperoning.

I had to go to each of my classes and get my homework for the next two days since the trip was in the middle of the week. Then I had to announce it to the O and O club. Most didn't care; Allen on the other hand didn't take it so well.

"Nick, you're so irresponsible, this is the fourth time this month you have shrugged your duty to the Orcs and Oubliettes club."

"Sorry, but I can't help it, my grandma is sick and she lives in Nevada."

Allen just scoffed and turned back to the game. He was seriously a pain in the ass. I prayed for the day I would reap him.

I walked out of the club and went outside where Daisy and Mason waited in the red car. Daisy had her movie star sunglasses and floral scarf wrapped around her head. Mason was in the passenger seat and actually didn't look drunk.

"Let's go kid. It's show time." Daisy said with a smile.

I hopped into the back seat and threw my backpack in. It was mixed with both textbooks and clothes Mason had gotten for a "five finger discount." He's useful for some things.

"So how long will this trip take?"

"A while," Daisy said and took off speeding.

0000000

"Yeah, this'll take a while." I said as we walked along the side of a highway.

"How was I supposed to know it needed gas?"

"The gas meter," I said.

"I don't want to walk anymore. It hurts walking." Mason said in a whiny voice.

"Next semi that comes by, flash some leg Daisy." I said.

"I will do no such thing."

I pointed at her shoes. "Those aren't going to survive the trip."

"Damn," She said.

"Besides, I'm sure the drunken master will protect you," I quipped at Mason's expense.

"Hey, you shouldn't talk to your elders like that," Mason said kicking rocks as we walked.

"Elder? More like toddler." I said under my breath. Daisy must have heard and laughed a little and looked back at Mason.

As little as I cared for Mason, Daisy seemed to be attracted to him. Maybe if you scrubbed him for a while with a sponge and some soap he might look decent. But seeing as how that wouldn't happen any time soon, I doubt that Daisy and Mason would, oh how do the kid's say it these days? "Hook up."

I knew Mason was a druggie but Daisy's past was still foggy to me. I noticed the other day in the dining room there was a red stain in the carpet that was scrubbed pretty hard. I was hoping she wasn't a mass murderer. Though since I was already dead I don't think it would have been much of a problem, except for the random blood stains throughout the house.

As we walked forward I noticed a small building. It was a motel. I stopped and turned to Mason and Daisy. "Two options. Get a room or keep walking?" I asked while being blinded by the bright sun.

"I want to get a room. It's too bloody hot out here." Mason said.

"I agree. My hair can't cope with this weather." Daisy said using the scarf to tie it back into a pony tail.

0000000

I laid on the bed with my head hanging off of the side letting the cool breeze of the air conditioners run across my forehead.

Mason was taking advantage of the mini bar.

Daisy left to see if she could rent a car due to the breakdown of the old one.

"How did you die again?" I asked Mason.

"I drilled a hole in my head."

"Why?"

"To get high…Hey, that was a rhyme wasn't it?" Mason laughed a little.

I rolled my eyes. Now, of all times, he gets rhyme humor?

"How did you die?" Mason asked.

I was surprised. I didn't think Mason was at all interested in me.

"Uhh, I tried to save a cat. Fell out of a tree.:"

"I never like cats. Allilergic."

The alcohol in his system caused him to butcher the word.

"Why did you want to get high?" I asked and turned to him.

"What?"

"You said that you drilled a hole in your head to get high. You were either choice A, very stupid, or choice B, you were trying to get away from something."

Mason looked at me and his eyes darkened, his brain seemed to sober with my choice of words, "I was stupid." He said. He stood and walked towards the door and stopped, "Why did you save the cat?"

"It was my step dads; he loves the thing even though it was the child of the devil."

"Sounds like you were pretty stupid too," and with that ray of truth hitting me, Mason left the motel room.

I was shocked to silence; I didn't think Mason would ever defend himself against my tirade of insults. I didn't think he had a brain cell that could even function because they were so full of alcohol. I didn't think that I would be left with only an empty bottle of alcohol and the whir of the air conditioner for company on this little road trip.

Turns out, I don't think at all.

0000000

We sat in the back pews in the 2 minute marriage church. Mason was at the end, I was in the middle and Daisy was last. Currently there was an elderly woman who could barely stand with her cane and a man who looked around his mid 20's. I was getting a weird vibe from the reverend marrying them. Maybe it was just the fact that he agreed to marry a 70 year old woman and a college student.

"Do you, Fredrick Reynolds take Darlene Hawthorne to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The guy looked nervous.

"Yeahyeah, whatevaIdo." He said quickly in a New York accent.

"Go up, now," I said to Mason. If he didn't hurry up he would miss the reap.

Mason hurried up and place a hand on Fred's shoulder. "Hey padre, do you mind speeding it up a little, me and the missus want to get married before tomorrow." His hand left the signature glimmer glow on Fred's suit jacket which partial covered a Gun's and Roses T-shirt.

"Back the fuck off," Fred said. But soon Fred would be dead and those are not the right words or outfit to choose as your last before you meet the big guy upstairs. But I guess Fred was already damned to hell since he was marrying an old woman so she could croak and he'd get all the money.

"Sorry," Mason said holding his hands up in apology, walking back he muttered, "Fuckin' yank."

"Darlene, do you take Fredrick as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Darlene said in a shakey voice that matched her shaking body.

"I now pronounce you," the reverend started. Before he could finish a piece of the alien marriage set came down, hitting Fred. He flew down the aisle and hit his head on the wall.

"Damn, he was killed by aliens." Mason said as he stared at the large plastic space ship.

I looked forward towards Darlene and saw the reverend touch her shoulder and leave the same shimmery mark as Mason did and she tumbled to the ground. Her heart failed as a result of the fear. Both of her new husband dying and a possible alien invasion.

0000000

Apparently the reverend was a reaper as well. "You gotta earn money somewhere," he said when we asked why he was doing quickie marriages.

He told me that there were reapers everywhere, how else would so many people die in one day?

I wonder if there is a Reaper luncheon. Maybe we have a Union?

We headed back to the hotel and thankfully Daisy's car was fixed. The drive back home was silent, just the sound of wind rushing by as we drove down the road back home. I could tell Mason was mad at me, but I'm sure that after a night of binge drinking he'd forget about it and I would try harder not to make fun of him. He really did have a problem.

As we drove I reflected back on our trip. I was surprised to find that I missed home. And then I wondered why I referred to my new life as "Home." I guess you just get used to certain things.

0000000

Rube sat down at his desk after a dinner of gourmet pasta. He wrote on a piece of paper and when he was finished he folded it and placed the thin page into an envelope. He scrawled something on the front and went to his door.

He gently taped the letter to the door and headed towards Der Waffle Hause.

One the envelope was scrawled one word that anyone who passed by would see,

"_Peanut."_


	5. Not So Good Situations

_For disclaimer see Chapter 1. I'm back on the horse and will be putting the last chapter up in the next few weeks. You might be confused by that last sentence. I only intended this story to be six chapters long. You are probably disappointed, but don't fear, after a small break I will be starting a new fan fiction. If you are a fan of heroes (I am) keep your eyes peeled in that section, I'm planning an actual romance fiction .Sorry for being late with this chapter as well, I feel so guilty, and there really isn't an excuse. I just have been having too much fun and not wanting to do any work. Thank you readers for your support, and again, I'm really, really sorry about the late update. Enjoy._

_Update: That romantic fiction story never happened by the way. And I don't think it ever will now that Heroes is cancelled. Oh well, a shame, but we all knew it had to happen some day. _

**Dead Like You**

_Chapter 5_

I made my way through the aged halls of Rube's apartment building. I had followed him around after assignments. Surprisingly I didn't have an assignment for the day, so I decided to do some snooping.

There was no one in the hallways, it felt dead. Maybe it was that time of the day when kids were at school and parents at work. I saw him enter his apartment and waited a few moments. That way he wouldn't get suspicious of why I was able to get to his apartment so fast. A few minutes later I gained the courage to knock on the door.

Rube opened the door, "What are you doing here?"

"I have a couple questions." I said, trying to look innocent.

"Can they wait until tomorrow?"

"Not really."

He sighed and told me to wait a second. The door closed and I heard some scuffling inside. The door opened again and I walked in. His apartment was very well kept. I walked in and stood in the exact middle.

"What questions do you have?" Rube asked; he seemed irritated as if I had interrupted something. Ew, I hope I didn't interrupt his… self help time… so to speak.

"I want to know about Mason. What is his story?"

Rube put his face in his palm. "Mason is trouble; he's broken in a way. He looks for comfort in drugs and booze."

"Comfort from what?"

"No one knows but Mason." Rube said. "Is that it? I have some things I need to do." I saw him look back on his desk. I saw a white piece of paper sticking out of a drawer.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Looks like something."

"It's nothing that looks like something."

"Doesn't nothing looking like something make the nothing a something?"

"It's an adult something." That statement increased the chance of my fear of interruption being true.

"I think the line between adult and child blurs a little once you've died."

"It's a letter, okay? Now leave."

I stood but I didn't leave. "I don't like secrets Rube."

"It doesn't matter what you do or don't like. It's my business."

I started to go for the door but turned and went to the desk. I pulled the piece of paper out. Rube snatched it away from my hand but I saw one line before the paper was taken.

"Why was that letter addressed to George?" I asked with curiosity.

"You didn't see anything," Rube said with venom on his words. He opened the door, "Now get out."

I walked to the door and stopped, "Like I said Rube, I don't like secrets. I can understand privacy, but when it concerns breaking rules, it puts us all in danger, not just you." I stated. I wasn't sure if Rube was breaking rules or not, but from the way he was acting I'm guessing it's not good to be contacting another reaper that's supposedly gotten a promotion.

Rube slammed the door so it made a loud bang noise.

I marched down the hall, determined to forget about what had happened. But I found that I couldn't. The thought of George flooded my brain and why Rube would be writing letters to her. I was mad at Rube and Rube was mad at me.

I now had two reapers hating me. Why do I put myself in not so good situations?

* * *

I felt guilty as I sat in math class chewing the end of my pencil. I decided that I would skip the club after school and go straight to Der Waffle Haus to apologize. I walked past the room where the Orcs and Oubliettes club meet and went towards the stairway. Behind me I heard, "Hey! Nick!"

As I reached the top of the stairs I turned to see Allen behind me. "Oh, hey," I said, trying to fake enthusiasm.

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, I have some things to take care of."

"This is the sixth time Nick," He pointed out.

"Uh, yeah; I know." I said.

"I'm tired of this Nick. Before you came here I was the top dog."

"What?" I asked with a confused look on my face.

"You've ruined everything since you came here."

"I'm sorry, but I really have to go." I didn't have time for Allen's craziness.

"No! You're not going anywhere. I used to be the best student here. I used to be the best player in the Orcs and Oubliettes club. I used to be the kid everyone liked. You always slack off in class but you get the best grades, you never show up to the club but all the others can talk about is you."

I heaved a sigh, "I don't have time for this; I'll talk to you tomorrow." I turned and started to go down the stairs when Allen grabbed my arm in mid step. My body seemed to turn on its own and he let go. I felt my body hit the hard tile of the stairs and flip around over and over as I tumbled down. I felt a sharp pain in my neck.

Turns out not only are cats fatal, but stairs too.

Allen stared down at my body and probably my neck that was at an odd angle from my spine being broken. I couldn't move. The commands my brain tried to send my hands and legs were cut off where the break was. I kept my eyes open playing dead so Allen wouldn't catch on to the whole me being undead part. I saw him run; that fucking coward. Suddenly I heard my neck snap back into place and my hands twitched slightly. "Finally," I said to my body, annoyed that it had taken that long. I got up and had to stretch my neck slightly.

I went into the bathroom and saw my neck already covered in bruises from the break in the mirror. "Fuck," I said. This meant I probably couldn't come back to school anytime soon. I left the school and pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up so it covered my neck that was blossoming with purple and yellow splotches.

Most people would probably have cried after dying for a second time. Not me. My nerves must have gotten fucked up from the fall, because I was pissed. Unfortunately since I liked where I lived and don't do well with change, I decided to put off the Uma style revenge.

* * *

I returned to Der Waffle Hause, well, because that's the only thing that I could do. If I walked into the school I would probably spark widespread zombie panic.

Roxy was there, so I had someone to tell about my epic fuck up. I sat down at the booth, "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Break, aren't you supposed to be learning?" She said raising an eyebrow while taking a sip of coffee.

"Kinda died."

"Really? Took me two years to die the second time."

"Does that mean I win a prize?" I said with a hopeful smirk on my face.

"Yeah, Rube shoving his foot up your ass. You were reckless."

"Kinda got murdered," I said slightly shrugging with a sheepish look on my face.

"What?"

"Past tense verb, one word, two syllables, rhymes with custard but probably not as sweet."

Roxy gave me one of the, "Don't fuck with me," looks. I sighed and went into the short version of the story.

"So, apparently a fellow student at school is jealous of me and went all Showgirls. He pushed me down the steps. I'm sixty percent sure that it was an accident."

"What about the other percent."

"Thirty nine percent pure homicide."

She raised an eyebrow, "That's only ninety nine."

"The other one percent is the off chance that he knew I was a reaper and knew I could heal from a push down the stairs so he decided he'd have a good ol' chuckle."

Roxy stared at me for a moment and I gave her a completely serious look.

Ten seconds later laughter burst out of our mouths.

That's when Rube came in. He saw me and clearly wasn't happy. Since he didn't know about the murder part, I'm guessing he was still angry about the letter.

"Hey Rube, I—"

He cut me off, "Don't want to talk to you right now," He said.

"I thought he didn't know," Roxy said finishing her coffee and standing up, letting Rube into the booth.

"He doesn't," I said. I turned to look Rube in the eye as he sat down, "I got murdered today."

"Damn, somebody beat me to it. Banana Bonanza, make sure the bacon is extra, extra, extra crispy." Rube ordered as Kiffany came to the table.

"You two have a fight or something?" Roxy asked.

Before Rube could tell her to go to work, I told her the truth, "He's been writing letters. Writing letters to George."

"Roxy, leave," Rube said. She left with a look of judgment on her face. Not sure if that was directed at Rube or me.

Rube and I stared at each other for a while. It was quite the unpleasant feeling. He kept his eyes on me, as if he could stare right into my head and read what I was thinking. I would have said, "I'm not going to talk first," But then that would be talking first now wouldn't it?

"We're going to have to transfer you," He said as his Banana Bonanza arrived at the table.

"No, we're not."

He looked up surprised.

"If anybody should get transferred it's you. You shouldn't be writing letters to George. I know some people deal with grief by writing letters to people that they've lost, but you hardly seem like the type to write out your emotions." It wasn't meant to be an insult, but it kind of came out that way, "So, again I'm guessing that George has been picking them up; which would put her in trouble too." You might call it blackmail, but I definitely didn't want to get transferred.

Rube looked back down at his plate. "Alright; you can stay, but don't say anything about this ever again."

"It's a deal," I would have held out my hand for a handshake, sealing out deal. But instead I got up.

Rube looked up and smiled a little. "You remind me of me, Kid."

I gave him a slight smile back and left.

* * *

The sky got dark. One of those darks that isn't really ominous, but thoughtful in a way. I was sitting on a swing in a park, no one was around. They probably thought it was going to rain, so they rushed their children away to safe homes so they wouldn't get hurt from water falling from the sky.

I sat on the rusty swing with my notebook out.

I saw Daisy's car pull up. She got out and walked over. "Hey," She said. This time she looked very modern, jeans and a nice jade colored blouse. She sat on the swing next to me.

"Hi."

"I heard you and Rube got into a fight. Are you okay?"

"Yes. I think everything will work out for the better."

"Alright. Don't get home too late," She touched my arm lightly, and then she got up and left.

Home. She called it Home. I guess it was. When she touched my arm it reminded me of my own mother. Rube reminds me of my father. Mason reminds me of my step father. And Roxy is just the bad ass aunt.

I pulled my pen out of the silver metal spiral keeping my notebook pages.

And I began to write.


	6. Epilogue

_For disclaimer, see Chapter 1. This is the final chapter, keep your eyes out for a one shot by me in the Heroes section titled, "Instinct." Have a lovely day, and enjoy._

_Update: Oh wow, I edited all 6 chapters in two (very separated) nights. I'm still debating if I'll be writing a seventh chapter. We'll have to see._

**Dead Like You**

_Chapter 6: Epilogue_

_Dear George,_

_Or Millie,_

_Or Georgia,_

_Or Peanut,_

_Or whatever your name is,_

_So in my new life…or death…well actually deaths, plural, I have learned what I am. Actually that's a lie; no one knows what they are. But I know what I don't want, and that's a home. I've never actually had a home. I've had my mom's house, my dad's house, and Daisy's house. Never a home, and that's what I'm afraid of. Just don't tell anybody, they might think I'm a wimp._

_I've decided to get a transfer or whatever they're called. I found out about your letters the day I got killed. Well, killed for the second time. Rube was pretty pissed at both incidents. But he seems like he gets pissed off a lot anyway. Rube said I needed to be transferred, but instead I wanted to stay here, so I kind of blackmailed him. I figured this pretty much nullifies the blackmail._

_I've never actually written a letter, so you'll have to excuse any awkwardness. This is new for me. A lot of stuff is new for me, except for the whole breaking my neck part, which just seems to just repeat itself. Lucky you, you got hit with a toilet seat from space, I doubt that happened twice. First I was killed by a cat, then a classmate. What's next, the plague straight from The Big Man himself?_

_I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I guess I just want someone to know my story, but isn't that what everyone wants, to tell their story?_

_Isn't that what everyone is afraid of (except me, since I'm just terrified of a big scary home)? We are afraid that once we die that we're forgotten, no one will be around to tell our story, and so there is no point in even existing. But they don't know that there is a possibility of life after death, that there is a whole society of people whom have already died. We should totally have a co worker barbeque. Do we have a union or something? Because I feel that we're overworked and underpaid._

_I just want to say that I wish I could have met you. I wish I could have changed these people like you did. You're probably wondering what the hell I am talking about. You've changed all of them George, you have changed Rube, Roxy, Daisy, and Mason, all in a way that no one else could. Maybe someday I'll be like you, but it will be a long ways away._

_Someone you've never even met,_

_Davis,_

_Or Nicholai,_

_Or Nick,_

_Or Kid,_

_Or whatever my name is._

_

* * *

_

I knocked on Rubes door and waited for him to come. It was an early visit, about 3 in the morning. I doubted that he would be pleased with the early intrusion.

I heard some shuffling and the door opened. Rube looked at me and sighed, "What is it now? Did you get run over by a car? Did a dog bite your face off? Did you get shot in a robbery?"

"I want the transfer."

"I must still be sleeping." He said rubbing his eyes.

"No, I want the transfer. And I want you to deliver this." I smiled and handed him an envelope with "George" scrawled across it.

"You have to be kidding," he started to open it, but I quickly interrupted.

"It's not for you. It's for George. No peeking."

"I'll work on your transfer later," He looked at me in the eyes. It was one of those looks that said thank you, but I knew that when Rube gave that look there was a lot more in it. It was probably a slight annoyance at an early awakening, and surprise that I wouldn't fight him on the issue.

I gave him a smile that said he was welcome and that soon he wouldn't have to put up with me.

"If you knock on my door this early again, I'm kicking your ass." I couldn't help but laugh a little.

"I'd like to see you try, Old Man. I've already died twice, what damage can you do?"

Rube gave me a small smirk, "Get going, you have a reap tomorrow."

"Oh joy. I expect a free going away meal." I smiled and walked back to Daisy's house.

I went to my room, which really wasn't my room. I got under the covers and began to think, which is never a good thing when it involves me.

I suppose now, I'm just going to enjoy my life. I'm not sure where I'm going, that part is up to Rube, hopefully he doesn't choose Antarctica or Greenland or somewhere cold.

I'm not going to stress about anything. I'm not going to try to fit in with the cool reapers. I'm not going to be that one anti-social reaper that paint their nails black and want to carry a scythe around. I'm not going to try and make friends, and I've learned my lesson in trying not to make enemies. I'm not going to focus on my job; both the one involving death and the one that pays the rent.

I guess I'll just, float along until I hit another rock in the stream. And hopefully, that rock won't cause any more damage to my spinal cord.

_

* * *

_

_P.S. Could you try to put a good word in for me up there for when I get my promotion? I know that will be a long time from now. Maybe until then, I'll actually enjoy being dead like you._


End file.
